


As It Is Written

by justanexercise



Series: MCU Soul Mate stories [4]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanexercise/pseuds/justanexercise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy and Angie soul mate ficlets. </p><p>People develop soul marks on their bodies when their soul mate is born. The first thing they ever say to each other etched on their skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tea

 

Steve Rogers is not Peggy Carter’s soul mate.

But that doesn’t mean she never loved him. She’d been drawn in by his determination. His spirit. His bravery. She supposes those are the traits her soul mate would have, at least she hopes.

Peggy stops by the L&L automat diner she’s always passed by going to and from work. It’s been quite the day, filing and as usual being excluded on missions and she’s going to treat herself to some pie tonight. She chooses a booth, perfect vantage point between the entrance and all the exits.

The waitress, cute brunette wearing a surprisingly flattering uniform, walks by with a painted customer service smile on face. Peggy can relate.

_“Just tea please, thank you.”_

She pauses for a moment, Angie, if her nametag is correct.

“ _Sure I can’t interest you in coffee English?”_

“I don’t much like coffee,” Peggy says, keeping her eyes to Angie. “Early grey if you have it and an apple pie please.”

Angie nods, she takes a few steps towards the kitchen, she glances back every other step to Peggy who’s keeping her head down. Her soul mate is a woman. She really shouldn’t be surprised, that writing is too perfect to be a man’s scrawl.

Peggy eats her pie, very slowly and even has Angie top off her tea with hot water. The tea is passed watered down by the time Angie gets off shift. Peggy will be back tomorrow.


	2. Close Call

Peggy may not be in the trenches of war anymore, but her reflexes are still the same. A young woman is about to step in front of a car and Peggy runs to her, yanking her back to the sidewalk.

The woman breaks a heel on her shoe and shouts at the car, “Watch where you’re going!” She balances against Peggy, taking off her other shoe.

_“Looks like you saved my life there, thanks,”_ she says to Peggy.

“ _It’s not a problem.”_

The woman stares at her, a bit strangely but shakes her head. She smiles and thanks Peggy once more before running off, heels in hand. Peggy watches her go into a diner, L&L automat. Peggy rubs at a spot on her hipbone, her soul mark. She passes by the diner and glances in, the woman is behind the counter, pouring coffee. It’s not unheard of to have a soul mate of the same gender, but it is indeed frowned up on in society. More than frowned upon, a few good soldiers had been discharged due to it, whether or not those men were involved or not.

Peggy looks back at the diner, where her soul mate apparently works. Perhaps this would be a good place for breakfast, possibly lunch and one cannot just neglect dinner.


	3. Coffee shop AU (Peggy/Angie + Sam/Steve)

“Why did I ever show you my mark?” Steve groans and tilts his head back as he walks down the street next to Peggy.

Peggy arches her eyebrow. “Obviously you need my help.”

Steve snaps his head back forward and glares at her. “Cause you’re doing so well with your soul mate. Talk to her yet?”

Indignant, Peggy raises her chin defiantly and shoves him. “I’ll have you know that I’ve found out her name.”

“Great,” Steve claps sarcastically, “have you spoken to her yet?”

“Have you spoken to yours?”

“We don’t even know if he’s mine!”

“Who else could it possibly be Steve? He’s in my economics class and yes, I’ve mentioned you a few times to him.”

Steve shoves his hand in his jeans pockets. “Lots of Sam’s in this world Peggy. And we know coffee shop gal is yours, so?”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Peggy mumbles.

“Should’ve said something to her.”

“I was sick,” she shoots back.

Steve shrugs good naturedly and they enter the coffee shop, both glancing at their potential soul mates with their peripheral vision. Sliding into their usual table, Steve sneaks another look at the barista, Sam while Peggy is watching the cashier smile at another customer. The first they were here, Peggy didn’t speak a single word.

“You order.” Steve kicks at her shin.

“What? No,” she hisses. “I don’t want my first words to her to be a coffee order.”

“Then order tea.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m not going up there.”

“You are an absolute arse Steven Rogers.”

Peggy stands up and dusts off her pants. She squares her shoulders and goes straight to the counter where the cute brunette cashier, Angie is watching her with a quirk of her lip.

“What can I get for you English?” Angie asks, leaning forward. “Hot green tea to soothe your throat? You still got that sore throat?”

Peggy takes a huge gulp of air and blurts out, “ _I don’t mean to be presumptuous but my name is Peggy Carter and I think you might be my soul mate.”_

“Finally!” Sam shouts behind Angie.

“Hold on,” Peggy reels back. “You knew!” she points accusingly at Angie.

“I might have, but come on English, show me,” Angie says instead.

Peggy purses her lips. She unbuttons the cuff of her dress shirt and rolls it back, on the underside of her forearm are the words: _Tea? That’s so English._

Steve steps up from his spot and smiles, he claps Peggy on the shoulders. Peggy grins and shifts to behind Steve, shoving him up to the counter right in front of Sam who’d been leaning against it while watching the drama.

“Sam, this is Steve,” Peggy says with an overly friendly smile.

“ _So you’re the Steve Peggy’s been talking about, I’m Sam.”_ Sam puts his hand out for Steve to shake.

Jaw dropping, Steve says, “ _Yep that’s me_.”

“Oh,” Sam’s smile drops for a split second and comes back on at full force. “Damn.”

“Well now that everything’s in order,” Peggy says, she crooks a finger to Angie. “You have some making up to do Ms. Martinelli.”

“Hey that’s my line, you didn’t say a word the first time we met.” Angie crosses her arms and pouts.

“I had a sore throat!”

Angie shrugs, pulls off her apron and drops it on the counter. “You’re going to have a sore throat again if I can help it.”

“How….oh. Oh. I’m … well alright then.” Peggy gestures to the shop around them. “Don’t you have work?”

“Screw that, I just found my soul mate.” Angie runs around the counter to Peggy and grabs her hand. “My apartment is two blocks away.” She looks back towards Steve and Sam. “Bye boys, have fun!”

Steve is still staring at the closed door after they’ve left. He rubs the nape of his neck and grins at Sam who’s untying his apron. “So…dinner?” he asks Sam.

“Dinner sounds great let me just till Phil he lost two employees first.”

“Oh I wouldn’t want to –“

“Don’t worry, he understands, you’re not doing anything tomorrow right?”

“Uh, well Peggy and I were going to go to a museum actually.”

Sam chuckles. “There’s no way she’s going to be anywhere but Angie’s room for the entire week.”


	4. College AU

 

Angie's super exhausted from her shift at the coffee shop and all she wants to do is flop onto her bed face first and nap. Except she can’t. Today’s the day her new roommate comes in and she’s been using the other side of the room, all her stuff is on the bed and she needs to at least put all her dirty laundry from the bed before she arrives. Manners and all that.

 Some British study abroad student is coming in mid semester and since Sarah just got kicked out of the dorm for possession of illegal drugs for the third and final time, they’re putting her in Angie’s newly vacated room. Sort of new, Sarah’s been gone for a month and she’s had the luxury of a full size room in double size rent. For the month she’s had the room to herself, Angie finally gets to actually use it. Being sexiled so many times starts to grate on her nerves, she’s not even sorry Sarah’s gone. Angie grabs a few boxes, still here from move in day four months ago, she’ll get to throwing it out, later. Good thing she didn’t though, cause now, she just shoves all her belongings into it. She’ll sort it out later.

Kicking the rest of her things, a few textbooks, laundry again, empty chip and cookie packets and water bottles. She doesn’t have time to throw them in the trash can three feet away from her, plus she’s tired. It’s midterms week, she’s allowed to be sloppy. Fuck it. Screw good first impressions. Angie falls onto her bed, kicks off her shoes and doesn’t even bother to change out of her work clothes.

Something big just crashed on the floor and Angie jolts awake, bleary eyed, heart pounding. She looks at the source of the noise, a pretty girl with lipstick shade red as sin gives her a sheepish smile.

“ _I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”_ The girl picks up the fallen chair.

Through her still waking brain, she mostly just registers the English accent and how so very hot her new roommate is. This is troublesome. Sarah had been hot but she’d also been so very straight…and also a slut. Angie’s seen enough boy bits to last her an entire lifetime.

 _“No big English._ ” Angie yawns and kicks off the duvet.

The girl freezes and puts a hand on her hip, her lips curling into a smirk. “I knew you would be an American.”

“You’re going to a school in America, what were the chances,” Angie deadpans. A beat. “Oh…OH!” She scrambles up and stands in front of her roommate now soul mate.

“Peggy Carter,” she puts her hand out which Angie shakes automatically.

“Angie Martinelli.”

“Pleasure to meet you Angie.”

“Oh believe me, pleasure is all mine English.”

Peggy raises an eyebrow at the nickname but otherwise doesn’t complain. She looks around their room, completely in disarray, only from Angie’s procrastination since Peggy only has a suitcase and a messenger bag.

“Midterms,” Angie explains. “I’m not normally this messy.”

“Somehow, I don’t really believe that.”

“Already questioning me? Gee, give a soul mate a chance first.”

Peggy hums. “How about dinner?”

“Sure, yea of course.” Angie checks her watch and it’s way passed time for any normal restaurants to still be open. “Uhh, a bit late for that I think.”

“Probably for the best, I’m still jet lagged.” Peggy looks over at her bed, only a mattress. “The information packet never said anything about buying my own sheets and pillow.”

“You don’t need to back over in England?”

“It was all supplied.”

“Sleep with me,” Angie blurts out. At Peggy’s scrunched face, she backpeddles. “Not like that! Well not like that right now, but maybe later or soon. But definitely meant just sleep. Say you’re not straight are you? I’m fine with being friends but that would be a damn shame.”

“Gender is a non-issue,” Peggy says. “And I will take you up on sharing your bed, solely for sleep tonight. I’m going to get changed, I still smell like airplane.”

Angie nods and sits down on her bed. Peggy puts her suitcase on the other empty bed and takes out her clothes. She bends down and Angie’s lucky she’s sitting. Peggy’s got the best backside she’s had the honor of ogling and her head rush is starting to make her dizzy. Angie wets her lips. She can’t wait to get acquainted with her soul mate. For once she doesn’t complain about the narrow twin bed.


	5. Gonna be fine

This is not how it was supposed to be.

Ever since Angie could read her mark, she’d been daydreaming of the day she’d meet her soul mate. Every conceivable scenario, she never did tell her mama all those dreams consisted of a female someone. At least that part is true. What she never did expect is this, the reality of it all. Meeting her soul mate behind a dingy alley with an arm wrapped around her neck so tight she can barely breathe.

“ _Everything’s going to be fine,”_ says the woman in front of her. Her soul mate apparently. English accent, that hadn’t been a factor, why hadn’t Angie thought of that?

_“Oh I’ll be fine and dandy once I don’t have a gun pointed at my head!”_ Angie screams.

The woman goes stiff for a second. Her eyes narrow, renewed with determination. Angie swallows. Gosh she should not be thinking of those eyes staring at her in a passionate embrace, not when there’s a fella behind her with a gun to her temple.

“You move I shoot her!” he shouts, digging the point of the gun to her flesh.

He wavers just for a second, pointing his gun to the woman when she takes a step forward. That’s enough for Angie to make a split second decision, she stomps on his foot with the point of her heels. He bends over in pain and shock, Angie whacks him with her bony elbow.

The woman rushes over, kicking him square in the face and he goes limp. That’d been easy. Angie now takes the time to study her soul mate. High cheekbones, would probably hurt her hand if she’d slap them. Lips red as sin, yup, Angie’s going straight to Hell for this.

“Well English,” Angie says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You got some explaining to do.”

“Could this wait until I apprehend him?”

Angie kicks him in the stomach. No response. “Think he’s going to be out for a bit.”

“Before I make a fool of myself, what’s your mark?” the woman asks.

“I’m guessing your mark has something about a gun?”

“Yes, it does. I have to say this is possibly the best scenario I could’ve hoped for.”

Angie’s eyebrows shoot up. She waves her arms around her, the alley, the unconscious man on the ground and the gun next to him. “You call this best case scenario?”

“I could’ve been the one pointing the gun at you.”

“What sort of trouble you in English?”

“That’s a long story.”

Angie cocks her hip to the side. “I got time. Angie Martinelli,” she sticks her hand out.

“Peggy Carter,” she shakes Angie’s hand.

Angie grins, this is going to be an amazing story to tell their kids.


	6. Been Waiting

_There you are._

Angie’s got a full arsenal of sassy replies to her soul mark, ranging from “You got the wrong girl” to “Gee just been waiting all my life for you”. So her soul mate’s an impatient one, so is she, but what’s important is that they’ve been looking for her. Least that’s what it looks like.

“ _There you are_.” A woman, prim proper English accent, wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close. Angie’s mind is still whirring with her soul mate’s words but also those lips! Geez, that shade of lipstick should be banned cause Angie can’t take her eyes off of them.

She shakes her head. Back to the situation on hand. Angie smiles politely and squeezes the hand around her. They both stare at the sputtering man at the bar, still clutching two drinks in his hand. He gives them the stink eye but thankfully leaves.

Angie puffs out her cheeks and turns to her possible soul mate/savior. “ _Thanks for the save good looking.”_

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up, her jaw opening and closing.

Oh gosh. Angie’s cheeks burn. How could she say that? That’s … of all the things she could have said she says that?

“I’m sorry, that was rude, but I’m only saying the truth,” Angie hastily explains. “I mean, really thank you for chasing that jerk away and you’re really pretty.”

The woman clears her throat and smiles. “Well, thank you. Frankly I was imagining slapping whoever said that to me.” She eyes Angie up and down. “But I must admit, that’s the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. I’m Peggy, Peggy Carter.”

“Angie Martinelli.” She up through her eyelashes, batting them for effect. “How about we go somewhere a bit…quieter?”

Peggy puts her free hand to her chest. “Why Miss Martinelli, what are you suggesting?”

“Just dinner you goof!” Angie swats at her arm. She wets her lips. “Or more if you wanted. I wasn’t lying good looking.”

 


	7. Doctor doctor where ya been

 

_You’re going to be fine, just put pressure here._

Now that’s not a soul mark you look forward to every day. But Angie looks on the bright side, just like her ma does. Her ma envisions a doctor fella, someone rich. Angie though? Angie dreams of nurses. After all, a gal’s more likely to be a nurse, never a doctor.

Then the war happens, and there ain’t no way on God’s green earth Angie’s ma was letting her anywhere near the war.

So Angie stays back home and goes on to be a waitress. The safe job. How in the world is she going to meet her nurse soul mate if she ain’t ever getting into any trouble?

The answer to that, a stick up gone wrong. And waitressing is a safe job, her ma says.

The man wearing a bandana over his face comes in right after closing as Angie counts the last of her tips and closes the cash drawer. Just her and him.

“This is a stick up!” the man screams, gun wavering in his shaky hands.

Who actually ever says that?

“Alright, just, calm down,” Angie says.

The gun goes off.

Angie staggers backwards, falling to the ground. “Oh Jesus Christ,” she curses, covering her stomach. Blood leaks through her fingers.

Someone else puts their hands on top of hers, pressing hard. Angie hisses in pain. A woman. Good looking one at that, staring at her in fright or concern. Probably both.

She smiles tentatively at Angie. “ _You’re going to be fine, just put pressure here._ ”

 _“Took ya long enough soul mate,”_ Angie sasses.

The woman freezes. Her lips thin to a line. “You’re going to be just fine,” she repeats and presses harder on her wound.

“Jesus Christ,” Angie groans.

“Mr. Jarvis!” the woman screams.

Mr. Jarvis rounds the corner. “Oh dear,” he mumbles.

“Get the car,” the woman says.

“Right away Ms. Carter.”

“Ms. Carter huh?”

“Shhh… we’re taking you to the hospital Angie.”

“How’d you know my name?” Angie asks, eyes droopy.

“Name tag. Stay with me Angie.”

“Don’t know yours English.”

“It’s Peggy.”

Angie nods weakly. “S’ pretty name Peg.”

-

Her ma’s got lots of questions waiting for her when she gets the time to answer them. For now she doesn’t even know how to answer them. She meet her soul mate? Angie swears she did, but the hospital staff doesn’t name anything about an Englishwoman bringing her in.

Angie’s writing it off as a hallucination, maybe her dying brain thought up a soul mate story to let her go in peace.

Until a bouquet of violets go through her door, followed by a familiar woman. Peggy.

“Hello Angie.”

Angie’s smiles so wide her cheeks hurt.

“Hi’ya soul mate.”


	8. Wasn’t me

Respect your fellow women. That idea’s been fully pounded and ingrained in Peggy’s head ever since she’d been a child. Actually, ever since her parents could read her soul mark. Peggy follows the teachings to heart, helping women from pigheaded men since she could throw a punch.

Still, it’s inevitable that she does something untowardly to her soul mate, why else would her soul mate say that to her?

Peggy takes up Howard’s offer to relax at a club he owns, free drinks after the day she’s had is just too much to pass up. She sips her whiskey, the good stuff. Her evening plans to drink and enjoy gets partially waylaid. She downs the glass, slipping through men and women to get to the scene.

She gets close enough to see the darkening expression on the harassed woman’s face. Peggy situates herself behind the woman, ready to deflect the sleazy balding man accosting her. She’s just a second too late, but she does make it in time to finally understand her soul mark.

“ _You don’t just slap a girl’s behind like that you jerk_!” The woman hisses, jabbing a finger to Peggy’s chest.

Peggy’s eyebrows shoot up as she struggles to close her jaw. The fuming woman gives her a puzzled look, until Peggy points her finger to the true culprit. The sleazy balding man has the audacity to blow a kiss to her. Redirecting her fury, the woman stomps her heel on the man’s foot while Peggy waves at Howard’s personal guards to take him away.

“Geez,” the woman puffs out her cheeks. She turns to Peggy with an apologetic smile. “Sorry I went off on you like that. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” The woman signals for two drinks, handing Peggy one. “My treat, I shouldn’t have poked you like that, you alright? Gosh, I’m so sorry. That’s the 6th time today some jerk thinks my rear end is public property. Here at least I can tell ‘em to shove off. Can’t back at work, can you imagine?

“ _I really can’t imagine what that’s like_ ,” Peggy says, offering a comforting smile.

“What?” The woman’s face blanks.

“I said I really can’t imagine what that’s like,” Peggy says a tad louder.

“I heard you…” Understanding and horror dawns on the woman’s face. “Oh God. Please don’t tell me my first words to you were –“

“About your behind? Unfortunately yes. At least I wasn’t the jerk who did slap your behind.”

The woman licks her lips. “Wouldn’t have minded if it were you. I’m Angie.”

“Peggy.”

“Well Peggy, you want to get out of here?” Angie says, hooking her arm in the crook of Peggy’s elbow.

“Yes, I think I’ve had enough excitement for the night.”

 


	9. Greetings from the past to the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peggy ends up in the future. Frozen? Time-travel from busted up Stark tech? Does it matter? :P

Peggy despises the future.

The present.

Whatever.

If anything for this damned coffee machine. Whatever happened to good old simple appliances? Perhaps the spawn of Howard Stark is to blame here.

Peggy stares at the mysterious contraption of what is considered a coffee maker this century. There’s so many buttons and blue lights that Peggy retracts her hand every time she goes near it. She steels her nerves, randomly pressing a button. Wrong. It beeps shrilly. No coffee for her.

Fine.

Peggy pouts. She tiptoes and fishes out a teabag from the cabinet. Tea bags. Peggy rolls her eyes. She’ll have a word with Tony about stocking the kitchen with the right tea.

Boiling water, now this she can do. Peggy stands in the middle of the kitchen, clutching her empty mug and a tea bag. If only she can just find the kettle, hell she’d even settle for a pot, even a pan.

As Peggy stupidly stands frozen, another female enters the communal kitchen. They give each other tight-lipped polite smiles. Business attire, light make up, concealed weapon at the hip. An agent then. An agent who just miraculously starts the coffee machine.

The agent gestures to Peggy’s empty cup. She relinquishes it gratefully. Finally, she sips her first caffeine for the day. She groans.

The agent quirks an eyebrow, amused. _“Looks like you found Heaven in that cup.”_

Peggy drops the mug.

It shatters on the ground. Coffee splashes everywhere.

“ _Oh dear lord I am so dreadfully sorry!”_ Peggy says. She finds a towel and kneels on the ground, pressing it to the soiled mess of the agent’s pants.

“Huh,” the agent says, hauling Peggy to her feet. “Y’know not as bad as what I’ve been thinking about.”

“What?” Peggy tosses the soggy rag into the sink.

“Your words, you were so very sorry. I’m Angie. Angie Martinelli.”

Peggy hesitates. She bites her lip, shaking Angie’s offered hand. “Peggy Carter.”

Angie completely stands stock-still, her jaw hanging open. It clicks shut. She nods, mostly to herself. “Okay that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“My mark was grey, not until a year ago.” Angie shrugs. Clearly still affected. “Didn’t really know what to think y’know?”

“If it’s any consolation I didn’t have any mark until I woke up.”

Angie grins, leaning against the counter. “Not sure if I have the clearance for this.”

“You’re my soul mate, you’ll have the clearance.”

“Damn, I can’t make fun of Sharon anymore.”

Peggy quirks an eyebrow, questioning.

“For dating a fossil, Natasha’s words,” Angie clarifies.

“You do realize Sharon Carter is my niece.”

Angie grimaces. “This is so going to be complicated to explain to our kids.”

Peggy chuckles, shaking her head. “Angie, we just met. Don’t you think kids are a bit further down the road?”

“I like to plan for the future. Hey you think Stark knows a way to bio-engineer babies?”


	10. Clothing optional

Number one, Angie doesn’t have a stitch of clothing on.

Number two, she apparently meets her soul mate. While naked. Though that’s not surprising.

“ _Bloody Norah, put on some clothes_!”

Angie groans, curling into a ball on her side and rubbing her face. “ _God how much did I drink?”_

A few glorious seconds of silence pass.

“You’ve got to be joking,” the woman says, English of course.

Angie peeks through her fingers, pupils constricting in the light. The woman, hands perched on her hips with a disapproving frown, nudges Angie with her foot. Angie grunts but otherwise doesn’t move. Huffing, the woman throws a blanket over her body and comes back with a bottle of water, which Angie graciously gulps down half off.

“Now, how on earth did you get into my apartment?”

“Your…?” Angie rubs her eyes, finally looking around. Minimalistic furniture, hard bed and completely clean and organized. Definitely not hers. “Uhh, I don’t remember.”

The woman kneels next to her, concerned. “Do I need to –“

“Where am I?” Angie asks, pulling at the fraying edge of the blanket. Well-loved, smells sweet, probably this woman’s scent.

“I’m Peggy Carter.”

“Angie Martinelli.”

Peggy blinks. “You wouldn’t happen to be Steve’s old neighbor would you?”

Steve. Right. Him. Angie nods. Last night, drinks with Steve, that jerk who can’t get drunk. Of course it would be.

“You the roommate then?”

“Yes, I suppose Steve brought you to my room,” Peggy says. “I did tell him I was pulling an overnight shift.” Her lips thin to a worried line. “Your clothes –“

“I think I remember that part,” Angie says, sheepishly. “I think I wanted to shower last night.”

Peggy breathes out a sigh of relief, nodding her head. “And only got to the taking off your clothes part.” She points to the pile of clothes on the ground. “I’ll uh, leave you to get dressed and knock Steve on the head.”

“Sure English,” Angie says. “And then a date?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”


	11. Cherries aren’t just a fruit

 

There she is, prim proper English sitting at the booth. Not her booth. Evelyn’s booth, again. Angie wipes down the counter so hard the towel stretches a hole at the heel of her palm. Tossing the now useless rag in the trash, Angie refills the coffee maker, watching English smile reflect off the distorted shiny metal.

A chance, that’s all Angie needs. Just a chance to talk to her.

It’s the fourth day this week and damn Evelyn won’t let Angie take her table. Course it might be cause English tips well, very well. Not like Angie even cares about the tips (for once).

Angie passes by English’s booth, with Evelyn taking her order, would it be too mean to hip check Evelyn and drop coffee on her? Nah, but making that her first impression with English – no way. Angie’s fake customer service smile morphs into a genuine one, hearing the vowels curve around English’s accent.

Enough to make the day a bit brighter.

Angie grumbles, cutting into the new cherry pie. “Cherry,” Angie grumbles to herself. “Blueberry’s got nothing on you.”

“ _I’d like a taste of your cherry please_.” English points to the pie in front of Angie.

Holy Saint Mary.

Angie goes on autopilot, plating the pie and sliding it across the counter to English.

Say something!

Angie blinks.

Anything, anything at all.

Angie coughs.

About time now.

Angie turns around.

Just a few seconds. Brain work. Say something clever.

Got it!

Angie spins back, ready to tell her soul mate – and wait, where’d she go?

Her head swivels back and forth, no English. Angie grabs Evelyn’s arm, blunt nails digging into the flesh.

“Ow!” Evelyn hisses. “Angie what are you doing?”

“Where is she?” Angie asks, eyes frantic.

“Who?” Evelyn yanks her arm back, rubbing at the red crescents.

“English! Where’d she go?”

“English? Oh Peggy? I don’t know she said work emergency, dropped a few bills and dashed off.” Evelyn points to the empty booth. “Didn’t even eat her pie yet.”

“Where does she work?”

“Angie you alright?” Evelyn asks, concerned. “You look a bit…frazzled.”

“Where does she work?”

“She never said.”

Angie groans, dropping her head on the counter, beating her forehead against it until it reddens.

“Uhhh…” Evelyn hovers near her. “Tommy! Think Angie’s got a bit of a meltdown here.”

Tommy, the manager appears from his office, takes note of Angie denting his counter. “Martinelli, you uh, take the day off,” he says, shooing her. “Whatever you gotta do kid.”

That something to do is wander around all of New York til her feet hurt more than a full day’s shift at the automat. Heart soaring at any glimpse of curled brown hair and sin-red lipstick. And heart plummeting when it ain’t English. Peggy. Short for Margaret probably.

Angie plops down on a bench, right in front of a toothpaste poster. Modeled by Arlene French. Angie groans, sliding down until the back of her head hits back of the bench. She’d ask if the day could get any worse, but that’d just tempt fate. Angie knocks on wood. Convenient, plenty of it she’s sitting on. She kicks her legs out, tripping someone.

Peggy!

There is a God and that God is smiling down on Angela Martinelli today!

Angie springs up, lunging at Peggy who’s already regained her steps.

“ _English I’ve been looking all over for you!”_

Peggy freezes, eyes wide. “You’re from the automat, Angie?”

“Yea,” Angie answers, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She grins. “You noticed?”

“I just pay attention. Are you…what are your words?”

“Oh you’re gonna love this.” Angie pauses. “Can’t really show you out here though, it’s on my back.”

“Right.” Peggy nods her head. “What did I say to you? How could we not have interacted?”

“Your fault for sitting in Evelyn’s booth instead of mine.” Angie sucks her lip. “She is not gonna happy I just took away her best tipper.”

Peggy quirks an eyebrow. “Who says I’m sitting in your section?”

“Shut up English.” Angie playfully swats at her arm. “You got some making up to do anyways.”

“What for?”

Angie mock glares, hands on her hops to emphasize her point. “You know how many innuendos I got for your words? You’d like a taste of my cherry please?”

Peggy takes a step back. “I … I said that?”

“Well to be fair you were referring to pie, but tell that to twelve year old me who got teased with who’s gonna be tasting my cherry.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Whatever, water under the bridge,” Angie says, waving her hand dismissively in front of her face. She smirks, looking around them, no other ears in sight. Angie lowers her voice, “And yes, you will taste that cherry.”


	12. A game of etiquette

Following target. Gun raised.

Peggy presses on the button in rapid succession.

“Yes!” she whoops. “Take that SonOfThom!”

She makes her character run, shooting this way and that, pulverizing her enemy. The resounding voices of her enemies yelling at her makes Peggy grin. If only they know they’ve all been bested by a woman.

Peggy dies.

“Fuck!” she yells, almost throwing the controller onto the ground.

Who did it? Who? The ten seconds it takes to respawn has Peggy looking through the game log to find…Broadway3C, fatal headshot.

Her new target.

Peggy licks her lips, ready. Her character respawns.

To her.

Peggy blinks.

Broadway3C just killed her again.

Peggy turns on her microphone and yells. “FLIPPING HELL, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU BLOODY WANKER, WHO CAMPS IN THE RESPAWN ZONE?”

“Calm down English, it’s just a game.”

Peggy freezes, not even bothered her character dies again and again, SonOfThom gloating in the background.

“Could you repeat that?” Peggy asks.

“Calm…oh… wow this explains so much!”

“I’m going to open a private chat, hold on.”

Peggy comes back on, securing a line. “Hi,” she says without any background players.

“Hey English, or should I call you UnionJack?”

“It’s Peggy.”

“I’m Angie.”

Peggy grins.

21st century, the only way to meet your soulmate apparently, through online gaming. Her smile drops. The first words to her soulmate were her yelling at her. Oh dear.


	13. Firecracker

 

“Sal!” Angie hisses.

Sal, Angie’s brother drops the evidence and takes off down the street. Angie turns to the devastation before her, a window blown out in the brownstone, flames flickering down the heavy drapes.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Angie makes eye contact with the furious woman. She gulps. The woman, hair frazzled, face smudged with soot and day-old makeup, and the harshest glare that rivals even her ma’s when she found out Angie had been sneaking girls up to her room.

“It wasn’t me!” Angie says. Her hand waving, the zippo lighters flame moving along with her. Angie flips the cap shut and hides it behind her back. Adopting the best hangdog expression, Angie drops her head and musters a few tears. “I-I’m sorry…” she wails.

“Oh cut the act,” the woman says, her English accent crisp despite her annoyance.

“W-what?” Angie asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Act. I know you’re acting, now I don’t care, you’re fixing this, and paying for everything. If not I’ll have you arrested.”

Angie snaps her head up. “I’ll pay for it, no need for cops.”

“Good, now get in here.” The woman walks up the steps, pausing until Angie jogs up next to her.

“So uh…” Angie winces at the curtain still aflame. The woman comes back with an extinguisher, expertly putting them all out. “Now would be a bad time to ask what your soul mark is?”

The woman stops. “You’ve got to be joking me.”

“I mean I always knew I’d get in trouble with mine, but –“

“That’s not…show me.”

Angie gulps, the woman staring intensely at her. She untucks her shirt and turns around, crossing across her lower back in perfect cursive _What in the hell do you think you’re doing_.

The woman sighs. “Yes, that appears to be my writing.”

Angie drops her shirt, raising an eyebrow. “How many people say ‘It wasn’t me’ to you?”

“Peggy Carter,” she introduces herself. She reaches into her blazer and pulls out a badge.

“Holy shit,” Angie’s hands fly to her mouth. “You weren’t kidding about arresting me were you?”

“No I wasn’t.”

“I uh…Angie…name’s Angie. Martinelli. Angie Martinelli. But really it wasn’t me, I swear. It was my brother Sal but little jerk just ran off leaving me to take the blame, as always.” Angie finishes with a sheepish smile.

Peggy shakes her head, biting her lip. “You’re still paying for this.”

Angie grins. “And what payment would you take?”

“We’ll discuss that later.”

Angie smiles. She squeaks, the firecracker in the room apparently not completely put out and spins on the ground. Peggy aims the extinguisher and puts it out. 


End file.
